


Just So You Know

by imsorryjesus



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, eruri - Freeform, teen for language I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5698726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsorryjesus/pseuds/imsorryjesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, Levi writes letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just So You Know

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if I'll finish Scrub Life anytime soon, I've gotten a little bored of it 8DDD BUT there is plenty more gay left in me DON'T YOU WORRY

            The war ends, and the pallor of fear drains from the city like dirty bath water. Nobody recognizes anybody else - these new faces, free of the burden they were born carrying. People have to learn to know each other again.

  
            Levi thinks of quitting. In the end, he decides there wouldn't be much point. The Corps has been repurposed now that the Titans are gone, and each day they range farther from the walls. Cartographers follow in their tracks. They are trail-blazers now, and there's not a soldier among them who doesn't welcome that role. The sight of the open plains brings many of them to tears. Not Levi, but he isn't immune to the wilderness. He wants it with a fervor that burns in his chest. He signs on for the first three-month trek they organize, and he doesn't look back when they ride out in August. He charts his own course ahead of the others every day. Nobody argues. So, really, there's no point in quitting - nobody stops him from doing what he wants. He wouldn't know how to walk without the gear on, anyway.

  
            It's odd, though. Working without Erwin.

  
            Hange helms the expedition, of course, and whenever he's not scouting ahead on his own, he's by her side. It's not hard to work for her - never was. But her shadow doesn't cover him like Erwin's would. It's bullshit, how he can't be out here with them. They're here because of all he did. At the very least, there's plenty of safe territory on the fringe they could set his sickbed up in. He says as much to Hange, who sighs and shrugs. _If something were to happen,_ she says. Like the Titans could just pop up again.  
            He sometimes wonders if they could. Muscle memory tries to tell him this is too good to be true.

  
            They left things unfinished, Erwin and he. Levi knows this, and he hates it, because his whole life he's known how abruptly chances can disappear. Still, they pretended they had time. Made excuses and kept quiet, until the gut of the city split open and they all had to scramble to find the stitches. Levi admitted the truth to himself too late - it _ached_ , in all those months of chaos. Burned its way through him like moonshine. Of course, there was no time to recognize it when he came back, either. They gritted their teeth and kept moving. They had to. But Levi overshot somehow, and now he's out here, free but alone.

  
            He settles for writing letters.

            _Found some more ruins - a water mill a few miles down on the western river. Shit-Goggles hit thirty species of birds in her catalogue today, and she won't stop shrieking about it in camp. Apparently you can see the top of this constellation over the wall (it's called Orion)._ The kind of things Erwin would want to know. In place of enforcing his recovery, he threatens him with dire consequences. _So help me, if I come back and you've been running around trying to save the world..._ A handful of cadets return to the city every two weeks, and he sends the letters with them. No way to get replies. He tries to keep them short, because who wants to read two pages of his terrible summary skills, but more sneaks in as the weeks wear on. It's easy to put things down when you can essentially send them off into oblivion. Towards the end of September they weather a horrendous lightning storm; three of the oxen run off in a panic, and they're grounded for two days while half the group struggles through pneumonia. He's one of them, and his handwriting is atrocious that week. _Nobody thought this would be easy. It's just hard to remember we're not the only humans alive while we're out here. What I wouldn't give for a hot bath and a pile of your paperwork. Don't get smug about this, you prick, but we'd feel a lot better with you here._

  
            In October, they turn around. Hange is satisfied with their progress, and it's properly chilly now, heralding the approach of winter. There's ten of them compared to the forty they started with, and the supply carts are nearly empty. The whole group is exhausted, but proud. On the nights where flat grassland stretches ahead, they push through, taking turns dozing in the saddle. Other times they make camp on riverbanks, or at the edges of forests. Most of them are too intimidated to approach Levi, but he's used to it. More irritating is the itch that gathers in his heels whenever they stop for too long. He listens in silence as Hange and Arlert pore over their notes by the campfire, and when he gets too restless, he climbs the trees to get a better view of the stars. It's easier to think, up there in the darkness. He's so used to compartmentalizing and pushing aside that it's sometimes hard to follow a thought to its conclusion. But now there's time. And the conclusion isn't so bad, anyway.

  
            Three months out makes one month back. It's bitter cold for the last stretch of the ride. Steaming horses and billowing breath are the last push they need, and the final three days are almost a charge to see life on the horizon. It snows on the last morning, light sheets that don't last. They hit the fringe a few hours after midday. The last mile of land before the walls is dotted with military camps, slipshod Corps buildings, and groups of industrious soldiers. Cadets and captains alike stare at them as they form up. Dying to hear tales of the mystical wilderness, for sure. At least they don't outright mob them like the civilians tend to. Hange, still full of enthusiasm, debriefs them outside of their western field office. She seems sad that nobody wants to help her analyze her samples, but not surprised; she lets them go without complaining. Levi withholds his teasing for when her subordinates aren't around. "Get some fucking rest," he says instead. "Unless you want your heart to give out. Or Berner's, for that matter." Her toothy grin assures him she won't, but he can't be bothered to force her. He's itching to get going again. It's a bizarre urge, to be back inside, but he supposes it's the familiarity that does it. Gilded cage or not, it is home.

  
            He uses one of the smaller entrances, not wanting to be swamped by civilians at the gate. The cab ride to Erwin's is another hour. He didn't even know Erwin had a house until they needed to move him out of the infirmary. It's a fair walk from the Corps' headquarters, on a side street free of heavy traffic. _It was a gift_ was all he'd said by way of explanation. Apparently an unwelcome one (they'd had to break in because he had no idea where the key was), but he didn't disparage it out loud, not with Levi around to hear him. Now it at least looks a bit more lived-in, with curtains over the front windows and a faint candle glowing somewhere inside. The cab rolling away is the loudest noise in the avenue, but even as empty as it is, the place already feels warmer.

  
            The door is unlocked, which either means he's mobile or someone has finally assassinated him. Levi comes in without knocking. "It's me," he calls, voice a bit raspy. There's no vocal response, but the surprised flurry of noise from the bedroom tells him Erwin's awake. He pulls off his overcoat, then his jacket, listening to the careful footfalls behind the closed door. Then he goes to the kitchen, rolls up his shirtsleeves, and washes his hands. It's no bath and the water is freezing, but it's the cleanest he's felt in three months. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, only feeling doubt for a moment. Somewhere in the house, a clock ticks.

  
            Erwin appears in the doorway just as he drops into one of the two chairs at the tiny kitchen table. The tall man blinks at him; it looks like he just woke up. "You're back," he says, like he wasn't expecting it. Levi nods, busy inspecting him from head to foot. He has one hand on the wall, but it's not supporting his full weight; he seems more or less balanced. Whether he's leaning out of habit or because of a badly-healed pelvis is another question. "You're upright," is all Levi says.

  
            Erwin casts him a small smile. "He did say full recovery, didn't he?"

  
            "If you played by the rules. Which you are not known for, believe it or not."

  
            He can feel something different in the room; whether it's real or just because he knows what he's going to do, he can't tell. Erwin takes a few (even, relaxed) steps forward and eases into the opposite chair. His expression is almost tentative. "Did everyone make it home alright?", he asks. Levi leans back in his seat, deciding not to rush. "As far as I know. Hange stayed behind at the field office. Most everybody else left together after debriefing - probably dead to the world in the barracks by now."

  
            Erwin nods automatically. "I'm glad." They both hate small talk. Still, he hesitates. The setting sun finds his face through the slit in the curtains. "I appreciated your letters," he says after a pause. "I didn't have much else to think about, stuck in bed. They kept me from going out of my own head. It felt like I was a part of it, even here." His soft smile sends a pang through Levi's gut. He curls his fingers into the fabric of his shirt. "You should have been there. Writing down a couple sentences was the least I could do."

  
            "A good deal more than a couple," the tall man corrects him. "And in legible handwriting, even." Levi makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he feels relieved that the teasing grin has replaced wistfulness. He glances at Erwin's hand on the table. Free of ink stains, of dirt, of blood.

  
            "It felt-"

  
            He looks back up when Erwin stops abruptly. It must be a trick of the light - he looks almost _embarrassed_. "Nevermind," he says, looking away.

  
            Levi doesn't relent in staring until he looks up again. "Erwin," he says, in the shape of knowing. It seems encouragement enough. The healing man speaks slow, but he doesn't stop. "They sounded like you. Every word - it felt like you were here."

  
            In the silence that follows, they watch each other. Then Levi stands and comes around the table. Erwin looks up at him like a worshiper at an idol. His face is level with Levi's chest like this. "I...I don't think I've been honest with you," he falters.

  
            "Then be honest with me now," Levi says, and kisses him with both hands on his shoulders. The world sighs as it slots into place.


End file.
